Firsts
by maskedmarth
Summary: For all of his life, since he entered the Resistance, he had taken Belle's words to heart. WH/WA.


_**Summary: For all of his life, since he entered the Resistance, he had taken Belle's words to heart. WH/WA.**_

**Uses fan-made names as such:**

**Wild Hunter - Landon  
Wind Archer - Matthew  
RED!Warrior - Henry**

* * *

For all of his life, since he entered the Resistance, he had taken Belle's words to heart.

"_Those back-line sissies have nothing compared to us! They think we are rough and callous, but that's only because they don't have the same hardships. We don't want to be like them anyway. They just sit around without taking action."_

Landon didn't know how right that was, but he would be honest. Of all the archers that he had seen fight and do battle, the most of them stayed back and shot arrows from a distance. And he knew that to be cowardly. After all, the Resistance focused on vigorous, hard-fought battle, not gracefully going about the battlefield like a fairy.

He was the opposite of the standard Wild Hunter, with his light hair, soft face and beautiful eyes. But he wasn't the best for nothing - his personality was all lethal calm, ferocious fury. It was like a hard-edged blade, something he shared very well with his own panther.

But, when the next mission required him to speak with a member of the Wind Archers in Ereve, he couldn't stop the scowl rising on his lips. Since the first day, he had kept that thought in mind - that Wild Hunters were better, stronger and more prideful. That they were stronger because they had the nerve to go into the frontlines and battle with their daggers and crossbows.

And still, even after all of Landon's trials, diplomacy was never his strong suit. He preferred to be fighting, winning his freedom, not discussing words like a coward. But Belle had an expectant look on her face, almost as if she expected him to accept, so regretfully … He accepted.

The first thing he noticed about Ereve was the white. Everything, _everything_ was white. The buildings, the uniforms, the animals and some of the greenery … The blond held back a scowl and simply blinked his eyes, turning his head and waiting for a moment before he slowly walked forward, making sure to inspect the signs to make sure he was going to the right place.

His eyes caught on the hint of something in the shadows, and he turned his head upwards to lock them with a masked man. He furrowed his eyebrows, but turned his head back straight to peer for the person he needed to talk to.

"Uhm - excuse me!" He heard a voice call from his right, and he glanced to the side, seeing a brown haired man only a little taller than him. His eyes were green - more vibrant and emerald than his own, and they were bright with a kind of joy that took him by storm.

Shaking his head, he turned his whole body to face the - beautiful? - man. Yes - the man was beautiful, with a thin face and lean stature, a light, gentle smile on his face. His hair was brown, slightly ashen, and longer than most. He wore a plain white shirt, but a simplified version of an ornate green jacket. Regardless of his dress, his face was perfectly happy, pleasant and attractive.

"Are you Landon? Of the Resistance?" The man asked, tilting his head curiously. "My name is Matthew. I think we were supposed to speak to each other." He - Matthew - smiled, that light never quite leaving his eyes.

Landon narrowed his eyes, but he let out a sigh, and held out his hand. "Yes, I am. You are the second-in-command of the Wind Archers, I presume."

Matthew beamed at him, and he idly wondered how such an energetic, happy person could be the second-commander of a cohesive unit. The other archer seemed nothing more than a naive puppy - cheery, innocent, a little childish …

"I am! Pleased to meet you, sir," the man responded, shaking Landon's hand. It was soft - like he didn't spend every day of his life shooting arrows and handling bows. His eyes drifted over to the ornate bow propped against the wall, the pair of black fingerless gloves and hat by it. Idly, he figured that's why the other's fingers were so soft.

Their first meeting went similar to that - business talks and snacks. He learned very swiftly that Matthew was a whimsical person, enjoyable to talk to and a little childish at times. But, the man was also smart and intelligent, able to converse war strategy and tactics. Most of all, he was a kind-hearted soul who could do no innocent harm - which he might have found weak, but in Matthew … he admired it.

Okay, so he might like him a little. It was just a little.

* * *

He didn't know how much of a fighter Matthew was until the Black Mage tried to invade Ereve, and Landon arrived to see the man, blood staining his fingers and clothing, face pale and lips drawn in a straight line. His fingers were tight around the bow, and he watched the man give him a weak smile, before he turned on his heel and darted away.

Belle shoved him forward by the shoulder, and he gave her an inquisitive look, before he caught what she meant, and he nodded slowly. Before he knew it, he was running after the brown haired archer, seeing two green coattails flutter towards a tan tent, a sense of panic in the footsteps. He saw the normally gentle man shove the tent flaps open and climb in with a sense of urgency.

Letting out a puff of breath, Landon slowly moved the tent door and entered quickly. He saw a man, likely a Bishop by the way he was dressed, look at him strangely, but his olive green eyes focused sharply on the archer kneeling on the ground.

"Henry," the man whimpered, gloved, bloodstained fingers grasping weakly at the bed-ridden figure - who, he realized with a start, had the same hair and facial structure as Matthew. He had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going. "Henry, Henry, wake up…"

He heard Matthew let out a sob, saw drops of water fall onto the bed. Matthew's head was tilted downwards, his hands tight as they grasped hopelessly at the warrior's fingers. He could feel his heart break in two, seeing the usually cheerful archer crumble in front of him.

Slowly, he sank to his knees, gently removing the taller man's fingers from the unconscious warrior. Matthew looked up, tears welling in his green eyes, and he sniffled lightly.

"O- oh … L-landon," he spoke weakly, rubbing away the tears in his eyes. "S- sorry, i should- shouldn't be crying, I'm sorry …"

The blond scowled, and he saw the man recoil a bit, before his hands shot out and tugged the Wind Archer into his chest. He felt Matthew stiffen in his arms for a moment, before hands grasped at his shirt and there was a wetness on his shoulder. He ran gentle fingers through the man's brown hair, and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

It was the first time that he saw Matthew cry, and also the first time they hugged.

* * *

Ereve had to rebuild after that.

Henry - who Landon later learned was Matthew's older brother - ended up being fine, despite a slight ache in his chest that hurt when he over-exerted himself. That part relieved him - because he never wanted to see his friend - friend? - that broken ever again. He never wanted to hold a crying man and told him that it was okay when he didn't know if it really would.

Landon and the other members of the Resistance stuck around for awhile, and they helped to piece a broken Ereve back together. They helped to rebuild, rearrange, plant trees and flowers, heal and assist those who survived … And also bury those who did not.

Belle gave him the task of keeping Matthew away from the bodies of the dead, and their graves, and so he did. Together, they set on helping to rebuild the once-beautiful town, to help plant the flowers and trees that were destroyed in the raid. And, he saw Matthew help to blow the smog and smoke away from the island, smelling the air become lighter and less poisoned.

Every member of the Cygnus Knights had their own place, it seemed. Warriors helping to lift the heavy things, Pirates helping to rebuild … Magicians and Wind Archers helping to clear out wreckage and things that could not be salvaged. Even Night Walkers … they assisted in the one job that Landon didn't expect - patching up those that were injured and helping them to survive.

It was scary - that even after destruction and disaster, that the Cygnus Knights could still be a cohesive and solid unit. Like a family.

He was beginning to wonder if what Belle had said about the other archers was right - because if Matthew could get up after a tragedy like that … If all of those Wind Archers could get up after that … They were stronger than all of the Wild Hunters.

The Resistance suffered through oppression - but they had never suffered through obliteration.

Landon found Matthew later that night, still in the same bloodstained clothing that he had fought and cried in, and they sat together for dinner. It was really Landon who sat down - Matthew had chosen a spot away from the others, likely for his own privacy, and to grieve. The blond sat down next to him with two bowls of stew in his hands, and he silently handed one to the brunet.

They sat in silence after they finished dinner, Matthew looking up into the night sky and staring at the stars, and Landon watching him closely, marveling at how tired the man seemed.

If he felt a hand grasp onto his, he didn't comment.

* * *

The next time they met was on a battlefield.

It was also the first time that he had ever seen the man's archery in action.

He figured out why the childish archer was Irina's second-in-command - he was _damn_ good at what he did. Looking around at the people around him, they had arrows sticking out from various parts of their bodies. They were very good shots - mostly aimed at vitals or places that would cause slow deaths. So, so unlike Matthew's personality.

An arrow grazed his cheek, and he turned his head up to stare where it was shot from.

A shadow cascaded over the brunet's pretty face, eyes dark and unseeing, hair a dark grey. His clothing had been switched to a darker theme, all gold and black and grey.

Landon swallowed nervously. He nudged his panther in the side, and they started forward together. He had always been confident in his archery skills - why is it that now, he cannot find the courage to fight like he means it? Why does he want to run away from this fight?

A flurry of arrows soared towards him, and he forced his panther to leap to the side, crossbow raised towards the dark figure as they slowly kept pace with the tense moment. It was silent - all he could hear was his own ragged breathing, and the sense of impending disaster.

Like it had started - it suddenly ended. The field became a flurry of arrows - normal and wispy green, a vision of quick movements and dangerous aim. It was like a waltz - beautiful, stunning, but it was threatening and dangerous all the same.

He felt arrows, representations of the wind inside his enemy, cut through his clothing and skin, but he could see similar wounds on his once friend.

They told him battles only lasted a few minutes. He underestimated how _true_ that fact was until he saw the dark body of Matthew crumple to the ground, an arrow embedded in his throat.

Landon's breath caught in his throat as he watched the pale faced man succumb to his wound, color returning to his face, and eyes brightening to that beautiful green yet again. He watched a faint smile appear on the brunet's lips before he fell to the ground, still and unmoving.

He felt numb - but it must be raining because his face was wet. He sunk to his knees, holding his head in his hands as he breathed heavily, containing feelings of despair, sadness and depression …

He wouldn't feel this way about any other. He wouldn't care if it was any other. So why did he care now?

* * *

It was weeks later when they broke out of the Black Mage's curse, and they reappeared in the rebuilt Ereve.

Seeing Ereve, beautiful, pristine and _together_ almost made him cry. Because he realized, with suffocating warmth in his heart, that everything he had done was an illusion. It never happened.

So when he saw Matthew, tall and beautiful, with his normal green cloak, bright eyes and pretty smile, he immediately stomped over and forced his head down, locking his lips together with his.

He pulled away after a few seconds, staring the Wind Archer in the eyes. The brunet's eyes were wide, blinking owlishly and mouth open slightly. He seemed surprised, and there was a tiny blush on the other man's tanned face, and Landon huffed slightly in return.

Someone whistled sharply, and he watched with satisfaction as the other's face burned a brighter, darker red, and watched Matthew's nervous smile, watched the gloved hands fiddle with the edge of his shirt.

He grabbed Matthew's wrist and dragged him away behind the safety of a tree and shoved him against the trunk, leaning up to kiss him again - this time, a smile on both their lips.

The blond pulled away, keeping close enough so that their noses almost touched, and their breaths mingled. Matthew gave him a smile, one of those radiant, happy ones, and Landon found it in himself to give an honest smile back.

"Welcome back," he said softly.

Landon's smile grew fonder.

* * *

**Twitter has gotten me into shipping revamped!WH and revamped!WA ... Likewise, I ended up making fanon names for the new Resistance, but I probably won't write about the others much. Ahh ... / ~ \**


End file.
